“Born of the Virgin Mary”                                                                            Vance L. Toivonen

READING                   Matthew 1:18-25

 

Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly.  But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins." All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:  "Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel," which means, "God is with us."  When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.

 

READING                   Frederich Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC

 

The earliest of the four Gospels makes no reference to it, and neither does Paul, who wrote earlier still. On later evidence, however, many Christians have made it an article of faith that it was the Holy Spirit rather than Joseph who got Mary pregnant. If you believe God was somehow in Christ, it shouldn’t make much difference to you how he got there. If you don’t believe, it should make less difference still. In either case, life is complicated enough without confusing theology and gynecology.

 

SERMON

 

I don’t know what got into me when I chose to go down this path the day before Christmas Eve. The virgin birth is a subject I have never preached on, mainly because I have never really known how to even start. Recent scholarly work, and a bit of ripening on my own part, has brought me to this moment in time. The fact that many of us here come from Orthodox backgrounds, both Catholic and Protestant, suggests to me that we carry a little baggage on this topic. So here goes…a sermon on the Virgin Mary.

 

In their book The First Christmas, Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan remind us that the birth narratives we have come to know as the Christmas story are the products of a pre-enlightenment world.  They make two important points that I think we need to have made at the outset this morning – and I quote.

 

  1. “In an ancient world, where understanding of the microscopic interaction between ovum and sperm was almost two millennia in the future, “conception” was a rather mysterious affair…the dominant metaphors for conception as “sowing the seed” and for birthing as “opening the womb” leave much room for puzzle, miracle, and mystery.”
  2. “Conception by human-divine interaction was a cultural given in that pre-Enlightenment world, so that, although any specific example might be denied, the general possibility was presumed. The exact mechanics depended on how literal the writer’s imagination or the hearers’ understanding was.”

 

It is 2007 and no matter what we might believe, or wish to believe, if we are old enough to have had a basic health class in school, we understand that the conception of a child, and the birthing of a child by any woman requires certain physiological elements. This is why Buechner suggests so clearly and so succinctly that when we read this story of Mary and the birth of Jesus we understand that we are in the realm of theology rather than gynecology. So it is best that we leave the physiological aspect of the discussion for more theological, mythological, and sociological pastures.

 

Jesus was born into a world that was dominated by the empire of Rome. Rome too had their birth narratives. Here is the imperial secretary Suetonius writing about the birth of Caesar Augustus, born Octavian:

 

When Atia had come in the middle of the night to the solemn service of Apollo, she had her litter set down in the temple and fell asleep, while the rest of the matrons also slept. On a sudden, a serpent glided up to her and shortly went away. When she awoke, she purified herself, as if after the embraces of her husband, and at once there appeared on her body a mark in colors like a serpent, and she could never get rid of it; so that presently she ceased ever to go to the public baths. In the tenth month after that Augustus was born and was thereafter regarded as the son of Apollo. (Suetonius, The Lives of the Caesars)

 

The Greek leader Alexander the Great was also conceived of human and divine interaction, according to Greek legend and, in fact, Joseph Campbell suggests that the Greek, or Hellenistic sociology of the biblical era was most influential in this story of Mary’s virginity. Campbell reminds that “the only (Gospel) in which the virgin birth appears is the Gospel According to Luke, and Luke was Greek.” Campbell tells us that the Greek tradition is rife with images, legends, and myths of virgin births. “Leda and the swan, Persephone and the serpent, and this one and that one and the other one “ (Joseph Campbell, The Power of Myth)

 

Suffice it to say, then, that the world into which Luke told his story, was a world that was used to hearing that its greatest leaders and rulers were born of human and divine interaction. For Luke’s purposes, the focus was on the current reigning Son of God, Savior of the world, whose name was Caesar Augustus. Luke wants the hearer of his story to understand that the new king, the new ruler, Jesus of Nazareth, has an exceptional birth too. So, Jesus is conceived in Luke’s story not by a man and a woman, but by a woman and the Holy Spirit, the very Spirit of God.

 

So, why would I preach this sermon other than to provide some basic historical and theological information? Well, for one thing, I have personally had to come to grips with the exceptional quality of this Jesus. There was a period of time for me while serving here at Hope when I would have relegated Jesus to a pool of great men and women in history. There was a period of time for me when I was angry with the Jesus that had been shoved down my throat by the mainline and fundamentalist Christianity of my past, There was a period of time when I was on the verge of throwing the baby Jesus out with the proverbial bathwater. This would have resulted in a divorce from the church, and a professional change of venue.

 

But something happened along the way, something I cannot identify as strikingly as Paul’s bolt of lightning conversion on the way to Damascus. Something happened deep within me that extends way beyond my desire for job security. Jesus began to be for me a real, living, breathing entity; a person, I suppose you could say, with whom I began to have interaction and discourse again. But this time, unlike times in the past, he was tangible to me, almost touchable…very real. And the more I listened to him, to his life and his teachings, the more I became enamored with his exceptional quality. Jesus became for me, in a way I do not think that he had ever been for me, the human face of God. And since I cannot see or know God, I began to understand that this was as close as I was going to get.

 

While I certainly honor all religious traditions, and recognize the exceptional quality of the many great religious figures throughout human history, I have decided to focus primarily on this one life, and this one man’s teachings. There was a time when I could not hail Jesus as King or Lord. Tomorrow night we will sing “Joy to the world, the Lord is come.” When I sing those words I can now feel them deep within my soul, and know that for me, at least, this Jesus is indeed Lord, the ruler of the realm of my existence. I believe with all of my heart that to the extent that we as a humanity also follow his life and teachings, we will live in the hope, joy, peace, and unconditional love that radiates symbolically from those candles on the altar.

 

I do not need to attribute Jesus’ exceptional nature to some human-divine conception. Jesus was born the same way that all of us are born. How he became exceptional will remain for me a mystery, which does not diminish the potency of his extraordinary humanity in the least. I want with all of my heart to see the rule of this Jesus become more prevalent in our world. I want my life to become more like his, which in and of itself requires an almost miraculous transformation. I want to continue to imbue our conversation and our choice-making in this place with the energy of spirit generated by Jesus, to save Jesus, and perhaps save ourselves in the process.

 

We have closed each service in Advent with that last verse from the beloved Christmas carol:

 

                        O holy Child of Bethlehem! Descend to us, we pray;

                        Cast out our sin and enter in; Be born in us today.

                        We hear the Christmas angels the great glad tidings tell;

                        O come to us, abide with us, Our Lord Emmanuel!

 

This year I have savored that moment in each week’s service, relishing the intimacy of communion that I am privileged to enjoy with the ruler of my world, the king of my universe, Jesus the Christ. This year I will delight in the simple telling of the story again on Christmas Eve, and the songs and carols that declare to the whole world that this birth is one to be noticed, this child one who will grow to become not only a great historical figure, but the Lord of All, the Savior of World, and the Hope of humankind. I will see you here tomorrow night on that beautiful, and blessed Christmas Eve.